Call to Juno (Tales of Ancient Rome #3)(15)
“Get up!” The veins in the king’s neck were protruding, his ugly scarred face flushed. His eyes that regarded his children so fondly were now hard and black and cold.
Arruns helped Semni to stand. She glanced at him. “Take courage,” he whispered in his thick accent, but she noticed there was a sheen of sweat on his tattooed features. She clamped her teeth together, trying to stop them from chattering. She crossed her arms, hugging herself. She was beyond speech.
Lady Caecilia leaned forward. “Did you know that Aricia is a priestess of Uni, Semni? Lord Artile deserted her, but Lady Tanchvil now employs her. If Aricia still plots to steal Tas’s mind, then how do I know you won’t conspire with her again?”
“She is still here?” Semni cast a look at Arruns, who was also frowning at the news. “Believe me, mistress, I want nothing more to do with her. I am faithful to you.”
Prince Tarchon was also studying the wet nurse with a shocked expression before turning to the king. “We should take no chances, Father. The palace is riddled with hidden passageways. We need to seal the entrances. Lord Artile’s knowledge of the tunnels under this citadel was expert, and the nursemaid was his avid student.”
The prince’s interruption only seemed to irritate the king. “I was aware of the secret way to the Great Temple in my own home. I can guess why you have knowledge of those in the palace.”
There was a strained silence. Semni understood Lord Mastarna’s disapproval. Aricia and she had often giggled at the thought of Lord Tarchon skulking underground to see Sethre Kurvenas when the youth lived in the royal residence. Their affair was a scandal.
Lady Caecilia interrupted, unable to hide her concern. “It’s important that Tarchon identifies the palace tunnels now.”
The prince crossed to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don’t worry, Caecilia. A sphinx symbol is marked on the wall near the hidden entrances. I should be able to find them.” He turned to his father. “But there’s a reason for their existence. Some provide access to the drainage system, but others are engineered as escape routes. Kings long past have seen them as a guarantee of safety.”
Lord Mastarna snorted. “If our enemies ever breach this citadel, I’ll face them bearing arms, not scurrying through the dark like a rat.”
The prince stiffened. “Then I’ll organize a search immediately. I’ll ensure they’re boarded up by tomorrow.” He bowed. “May I be excused?”
Semni saw Lady Caecilia mouth a silent thank-you to her stepson after he’d been dismissed.
The lucumo pointed to a spot in front of him. “Come here, Semni.” Her stomach lurched.
“My blood runs cold when I think I might have survived a battle only to find my son had been abducted by evil.” He gestured to the empty chair that the prince had vacated. “Did you know Lord Artile corrupted Prince Tarchon when he was only a child? I pray my brother was speaking the truth when he denied tainting Tas in that way.”
Semni felt nauseous at the thought she may have been party to the little boy’s corruption.
The monarch stood, pushing aside his footrest as he walked to the edge of the dais. Semni shrank back as he towered above her on the platform, anxious he might step down and strike her.
“And so I’ll show no clemency toward you today. You’ll be taken from here and birched before you are cast into the street. My compassion is saved only for Nerie. Your son will remain under my roof.”
A sob rose in her throat. She had hoped her honesty would spare her; instead, the judgment she most feared had been meted.
Lady Caecilia rose and touched her husband’s arm. “This is too harsh. She is only seventeen.”
The king shrugged her away. Even in her distress, Semni was confused. He always treated his wife with respect. To have him disregard her was ominous—an indication of the depth of his fury. What hope was there of reprieve when even Lady Caecilia could not sway him?
Arruns slipped his arm around Semni’s waist. She clung to him, weeping. For a moment she hated him for forcing her to confess. His duty to the master had been greater than his love for her. “Why did you make me do this?” she whispered. “Why couldn’t you have let well enough alone?”
“Calm yourself.” The certainty in his voice gave her pause. She took a deep breath and ceased her sobbing.
The king fixed his gaze on Arruns. “And what have you to say? Instead of informing us of this woman’s treachery, you remained silent. I thought you were trustworthy, Arruns. Now it seems you value a pretty face over fidelity.”
The Phoenician tensed at being accused of disloyalty by the man for whom he’d risked his life throughout all those years. His words were deliberate, as though he’d rehearsed them.
“I only heard of Semni’s transgression after the battle. I waited until your coronation was over so you weren’t distracted from affairs of state. And I made it clear to Semni that I wouldn’t wed her unless she admitted her guilt.”
Lord Mastarna studied the bodyguard, the anger in his tone lessening. “Then I excuse you for keeping this from me. But this girl is undeserving to be your wife. I’m doing you a favor in expelling her.” He offered his arm to Lady Caecilia. “This audience is over. I’ve nothing more to say.”
The queen seemed reluctant to leave. Her hesitation reminded Semni that once the king had left the throne room she’d be led away and whipped. She wondered which of the lictors would exact the sentence. Whether they would let her kiss Nerie before she was ejected. Whether Arruns would be made to watch.